The Things You Think You Cannot Do
by raienetta
Summary: One-shot written for the IWSC. Harry chooses to be resorted because he no longer feels like he belongs in Slytherin. He meets Ian and Salem and together they help Harry work through his insecurities.


_Written for the International Wizarding School Championships - Practice Round One._

* * *

_**School:** Hogwarts_

_**Prompts:** Cherry red, 'You must do the things you think you cannot do.' —Eleanor Roosevelt_

_**Theme:** Resorting — figurative or literal_

_**Wordcount: **1985_

_**WARNINGS:** slight homophobia, self-hate, bullying, inferred child abuse, violence_

* * *

The bathroom was a mess. A number of the bottles and containers which normally stood against the talking mirror were either scattered on the bench or had rolled onto the floor. The mirror itself was cracked and shards of broken glass lay everywhere.

Harry was curled painfully against the freezing bathroom wall. His back being coloured by the small drops of blood that escaped from the wounds that his so-called friend had caused — more painful than any that his so-called uncle had given him.

His face rested on arms which pressed his knees tightly to his chest. The stream of tears that fell from bruised and battered eyes ran over them. Harry's breaths were shallow and unsteady; never being held for the same amount of time, instead, escaping in unheard cries.

In his hand, almost forgotten, lay a small black stick. Its cap was across the room, having been lost in the fight. The missing lid, however, allowed the dull cherry colour of the lipstick to be seen. The same colour that he had put on his lips.

Harry had made a mistake — a big, big mistake — and it had cost him _everything_.

"You're a _freak_!" Someone shouted through the door, "You deserve to die!"

The stick slipped, more tears fell and the name that Vernon had given to him echoed over, and over.

* * *

_'You must do the things you think you cannot do.' —Eleanor Roosevelt_

* * *

Dumbledore's face was sombre as he spoke, "I understand what you wish to happen, my boy, but I fear that you may be disappointed. While the hat sorts students based on their characteristics, it takes into account their own preferences. Our choices and the way that we grow as people is so often shaped by the house we enter,"

"Please, sir," Said Harry, "I really do believe that I will be sorted somewhere else,"

"Are you sure, my boy?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded enthusiastically, his composure lighting up.

"Then I will allow it. But if it places you back in Gryffindor — which is the most likely outcome — then that is where you must stay for the rest of your Hogwarts education. I know that you wish for something else, but I can not be seen to have favourites and allowing a student to enter a house in which they were not sorted… I am sure you understand, my boy,"

"Yes, sir," Harry responded. Dumbledore, frail yet not weak in old age, stood from his chair and collected the Sorting hat. He placed it on Harry's head and took a step back. The hat — which had fallen over his eyes in first year — now sat comfortably on his head and, just like first year, it began to creep through his mind, commenting on what it saw.

Eventually, it stopped its exploration and turned to Harry.

_You've changed a fair bit since I first saw into your mind. Though still courageous and still with a thirst to prove yourself_, It said,_ your fear of what you are has changed you. You are scared of remaining where you are now but it is your determination that led to your rash decision to be re-sorted. Courage and loyalty overruled by fear, wisdom and self-preservation. Where to put you? Where to put you?_

_Not Gryffindor_, Harry chanted, _Not Gryffindor_

_Not Gryffindor, eh?_ The hat said in Harry's head before it opened its brim.

"Slytherin!" It cried.

* * *

_'You must do the things you think you cannot do.' —Eleanor Roosevelt_

* * *

"—and this is your dorm room," The Slytherin prefect finished.

He had been called out of class and into Dumbledore's office after Harry had been re-sorted. The headmaster had instructed him to take Harry to Gryffindor for his things and then show him to the room which was where they were now, making sure that they avoided as many people as possible on the way.

Taking a peak at his wristwatch, he said, "Dinner begins shortly, so I'll leave you to get settled. Your dorm mates should be in their so if you have any questions about the pamphlets you can ask them,"

"Thanks," Said Harry as he took a deep breath before entering the room.

Glancing around he noticed that unlike the five single beds in Gryffindor, Slytherin dorms only had three double beds. Each one was made from brazillian walnut and had dark green curtains tied to the posts by a silver rope. A trunk rested against the end of each bed, and the bed closest to the door had two occupants seated on it, both of whom had turned to face Harry.

The first boy had dark brown hair and cool blue eyes. He features seemed to be of middle eastern descent yet his skin tone was more european. The second boy's features were dull and his skin was pale. Yet his eyes were slightly different colours, one hazel and one green.

"Can we help you?" Said the second boy looking at Harry suspiciously.

"I-I'm Harry," Said person stuttered.

"We know that, Potter!" Said the first boy, "I'm asking what a Gryffindor such as you is doing in the Slytherin dorms,"

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed, suddenly feeling self-conscious, "I'm your new roommate. I got re-sorted and the hat put me here!"

"Likely story, Gryffindor," Said the first boy as he stood from the bed, "We know why you're really here; You've all heard the rumors and they sent you to come and see if they're actually true! We'll tell your friends that they can shove—"

"SAL!" Said the second boy, grabbing the other, "Remember what you told me the other day and stop trying to intimidate him. Can't you see he's already uneasy as it is?" He then turned and rambled at Harry, "Sorry 'bout that, Potter. I'm Ian and behind me is Salem. The bed furthest to the right is your's and the same with the cupboard in the bathroom. We'll save you a spot at the table but don't worry about coming if you don't feel up to it. Bye!"

The two of them closed the door behind them, leaving Harry by himself. He walked up to the bed and after taking off his shoes and placing all but one of the flyers on his bedside table, flopped onto the bed. Opening the flyer titled 'Expectations of a Slytherin' Harry read through it before he remembered that he had to unpack. Groaning he forced himself to get up and unpack everything into its spot.

Once Harry had placed the bedside items on top of the side table, and what belonged in the draw, in the draw, he opened his trunk once more. He kneeled on the floor and grabbed on to his toiletry bag and gave a sharp tug to pull it free from its place under his clothes. It didn't work how Harry had planned and instead, he was left holding an empty bag.

"Ah, shoot!" He exclaimed, shoving his hand into the bottom of the trunk. Quickly he put everything that he could find back into the bag.

Toothbrush? Check.

Toothpaste? Check.

Comb that never seems to get used? Check.

Hair potions that serve no purpose? Check.

Skin cream? No.

Harry shoved his hand back into the trunk. Pushing around his clothes, he ran his hand along the bottom and side panels. After a while, he felt his hand close around a tube and Harry pulled it out to look at its red colour.

Quickly he grew pale and shoved the tube back in his trunk, now shaking hand once again searching.

* * *

_'You must do the things you think you cannot do.' —Eleanor Roosevelt_

* * *

One night, the first friday after his resorting, Harry could not sleep. Instead he spent three hours tossing and turning due to a range of bad dreams. After waking for an indeterminable time Harry decided to get out of bed.

He crept over to his trunk and carefully opened its lid. Shuffling his hand around, he removed it when he found the small tube that he had shoved there. Closing the lid, Harry sucked and held his breath when it made a heavy thud.

Thankfully the most memorable thing that happened was when Ian rolled over. Harry stood up and went into the bathroom. Placing the container on the bench he turned the tap on. With a shaky hand, he placed it under the flow of water until he had enough to splash his face with.

Picking up the container he then opened it but hesitated before putting it on his lips. As soon as he had finished Harry looked at his reflection and then broke down in tears. The mirror rippled and a face formed.

"Why are you so sad?" It asked.

"Why am I like this?" Harry asked, "Why am I a _freak_?"

"You are not a freak, you just like different things to others. How about you join me more often and I can teach you a bit more about makeup?"

Harry's lip wobbled into a smile, the cherry red lipstick highlighting it.

* * *

_'You must do the things you think you cannot do.' —Eleanor Roosevelt_

* * *

Almost a week later, Harry had been in Slytherin for less than a fortnight and already he felt more comfortable then when he was in Gryffindor. Ian and Salem had become his sort-of-but-not-quite-there friends and could see them as being genuine friends for a long time to come — Unlike those that he had left in Gryffindor.

The three of them were currently sitting on Ian's bed, Harry away from the headboard and opposite the other two. In front of them was their school work, Ian was reading up on Care while Salem and Harry were doing divination homework.

When Harry had gotten his new timetable he was surprised to find out that Salem was in his class. He was even more surprised when he discovered that Salem's mum had trained him in scurrying and he had a tutor that taught him necromancy. Harry had thought that necromancy was classified as evil but when he asked Salem told him, "Like any magic, it is neither good nor bad. It is only light or dark,"

"—rry? Harry?" Ian asked.

"Heh?" Said Harry, snapping out of his memories.

"Can I borrow your History book?"

"Yeah, sure," Harry responded, "It's somewhere in my bag. Do you think it's more likely that I die from an overloving fan sending me mountains of irresistible chocolate, or from the boredom of Binns' class?"

"Definitely Binns," Said Salem, "What do you think, Ian?"

"I think you need to explain why you're carrying this around," He muttered.

"What?!" Said Harry, turning around violently. His face paled as he took in the sight of the small black stick that Ian had in his hand and he couldn't help but feel sick.

"Its...Uh…Not mine?"

"Harry, please don't lie. Ian saw you put it on when you thought we were asleep and I saw it while scurrying," Said Salem, "Do you think so little of us?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed.

"Then why don't you wear it around us?"

"The reason I left Gryffindor was because people found out before I was ready and reacted really badly. It's hit me hard because I lost those people as friends and I really don't want to lose you two,"

"So you just don't feel comfortable. Is that right?" Ian asked.

Harry nodded his head.

"Then maybe until you feel more comfortable you could just wear it in our dorm! We could even see if we can find some more femminine clothes at our next Hogsmeade visit!" He said, excitedly.

Harry felt tears run down his cheeks and wiped them away quickly. Launching himself from the bed he tackled Ian to the floor in a hug.

* * *

_'You must do the things you think you cannot do.' —Eleanor Roosevelt_

* * *

A year later, Harry could be found walking into great hall wearing his favourite cherry and with hair long enough to swish against his shoulders. He would no longer curl into himself when someone commented on his make up nor would he look at that person suspiciously.

Ian and Salem were two of the best influences he had ever had. Harry felt that he could not have made a better decision than when he chose to switch house.


End file.
